


Morning After

by Whyistheskyblue



Series: You Can be My Compass [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Relationship, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, second in series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyistheskyblue/pseuds/Whyistheskyblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/841000/chapters/1603163">I'm Not That Kind of Doctor</a> Bruce and Tony take the first step into their relationship.<br/><i>Can not</i> be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning After

Bruce's first instinct upon waking up was panic. Then he realized the arms holding him in place were Tony's. The hard thing digging into his back was the arc reactor. The fingers threaded through his own were Tony's long, slim ones. The second thing he realized was Tony was awake. 

“Morning Sleeping Beauty. How's that head?” Tony laughed, untangling his limbs from Bruce's. “How's a fry up sound for breakfast? Cap's eggs, greasy bacon, hash browns?” The inventor chuckled at Bruce's baleful glare. 

“Why do I feel like I've been dragged through half the bars in the city?” The mutant grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Tony grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“You decided to drink my liquor cabinet last night, before coming upstairs in search of more.” You've been sleeping it off for – ” Tony broke off, glancing at his bare wrists. 

“You and Dr. Banner have been sleeping for approximately thirteen hours, sir. Captain Rogers has already sent Agent Barton through the ventilation system twice to insure you were still alive.” 

“And that's why my back feels like hell.” Tony grumbled. “Jarvis, make note that the next time Bruce and I decide to roleplay spoons, the couch is not a suitable resting place.” 

“Duly noted, sir.” 

“Next time, Tony?” Bruce asked, getting to his feet. He pulled the medical kit off the wall and popped two aspirin, crinkling his nose at the bitter taste. 

“Tonight, my bed, repeat performance? Hopefully with more sex?” The genius batted his eyelashes ridiculously. 

“What did we talk about last night?” Bruce demanded, walking on unsteady legs to the sink where he knew Tony kept toiletries. He focused on the peppermint taste that was filling his mouth, overriding the stale liquor. He spit into the sink, finally looking into the mirror. Tony was right behind him, a half smile dancing around the corners of his lips. “Hey.” Bruce said, meeting the inventors eyes in the mirror. 

“Hey.” Tony smiled, taking the final shuffling step forwards so he was pressed against Bruce. His hands ghosted on the taller mans hips, waiting for the permission of Bruce's smile before settling firmly, his cheek resting on the mutant's shoulder. “You don't have to run anymore, okay?” 

“Okay.” Bruce agreed. 

“And we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, okay?” 

“Okay.” A sob caught in the back of the Bruce's throat, the word more breathless than he would have cared to admit. 

“Sir, Captain Rogers is inquiring as to whether or not you and Dr. Banner intend to emerge. He requested that I inform you it's nearly six, and neither of you have eaten since lunch yesterday.” 

“Thank you, Jarvis. Please tell Steve we'll be up shortly.” Bruce replied before Tony could make a snide remark. Their eyes met once more in the mirror. 

“Okay?” Tony asked again, his voice half muffled by Bruce's shirt. The scientist knew he meant something completely different than last time. 

“Okay.” Bruce whispered, removing Tony's hands so he could flip around. “Okay.” He murmured again, tilting his head to capture Tony's mouth. 

  


Dinner was a subdued affair. It had been Natasha's turn to cook, meaning something warm, filling, and decidedly Eastern European. Pirogi’s, polish sausage, and a strange beet/applesauce garnish that kind of tasted like childhood and kind of made you want to wrinkle your nose and ask what was in it. Which Tony had done. He had ended up wearing a spoonful (catapulted by Clint) and glared at and told to eat it (by Natasha). Laughing, Bruce reached over and wiped some off a spluttering Tony's shirt with his fork, grinning when the genius stabbed a piece of his sausage, muttering about equal trade value. 

“Guys?” Steve asked, fingers vibrating against the table. “Is there something we should know about?” A pale pink creeping across his cheeks, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to look at the two geniuses acting like teenagers, his plate, or the window. He settled on alternating between the three, bright blue eyes flickering nervously. 

“Not really.” Tony shrugged, grin widening when Bruce stomped on his toes. Clint snorted. “Hey, anything you've seen because you were climbing through the vents is not open to discussion at the dinner table.” He waved his fork at Clint, splattering grease in a small arc. 

“So there is something worth talking about?” Natasha grinned. Bruce hid a smile behind a hand as Tony stuttered, trapped by his own words. 

“Perhaps.” The doctor said, schooling his expression. “But that's a conversation for later.” 

“Fair enough.” The assassin smiled, red lips curling at the edges. 

  


It was Tony's turn to pick the movie (a plotless horror flick filled with busty blondes and fake blood). The team settled into their normal spots, Tony and Bruce on the love seat, Cap and Thor in their arm chairs, Clint and Natasha on opposite ends to the couch, Coulson's spot empty between them. Bruce didn't say anything when, before the previews were done, Tony's feet were in his lap. He didn't say anything when, half way through, the feet turned into his head. 

Bruce played idly with Tony's hair, watching listlessly as the masked killer tore apart yet another teenager who had wandered away from the group. The inventor's breathing was slow and heavy, almost asleep. His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay awake until the end. 

“Bruce.” He whispered, grabbing the scientist's wrist. 

“Tony?” Bruce swallowed. The inventor's long fingers stroked the inside of his wrist, the tender place reserved lovers and mothers. 

“Wake me up at the end. Okay?” His voice was heavy with sleep. 

“Okay.” The scientist agreed. Tony nodded off, hand still wrapped around Bruce's wrist. The movie ended with a particularly gruesome blood splatter. Bruce let the rest of the team filter out, making small talk and stretching after sitting still so long. 

“Tony?” Bruce murmured, shaking the genius awake. “Time to go to bed.” 

“Come with me.” Tony yawned, fingers still clutching Bruce's wrist. The mutant swallowed. He was familiar with Tony's past treatment of bed partners. He had heard from Pepper about how the inventor had often left in the early hours of the morning, leaving the girl of the night to find her own way out. “I want you to be there when I wake up. Tomorrow, the next morning, the next. Okay?” The sleepy smile crinkled the edges of Tony's eyes. “Please come to bed.” 

“Okay.” Bruce smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> "'Okay?' 'Okay.'" is, in fact, a John Green quote.  
> Because DFTBA, that's why.


End file.
